


tailor made

by 9luciddreams (1degenerates)



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Boardwalk Empire Kinkmeme, Ficathon, I'm a tease, M/M, No Apologies, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Short One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, be kinkmeme, in which charlie is jealous of a tape measurer, sorry there isn't porn in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27431683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1degenerates/pseuds/9luciddreams
Summary: Tape measuringstriptease.
Relationships: Lucky Luciano/Arnold Rothstein
Kudos: 4





	tailor made

A thin yellow tape measurer slithers up the inseam of Arnold Rothstein’s pant leg.

“What do you think of the charcoal gray?” Arnold looks down at the tailor, who had asked for his opinion. Before he could answer Charlie interrupts, “I think it would suit you” with his trademark smirk. 

AR’s eyes slide over to Charlie’s arrogant stance and the admonishment he feels for that comment prompts Charlie to wipe that smirk off quicker than any of AR’s winning bets.

The tailor’s slim hands readjust the tape measurer horizontally and then he slowly stands up from his crouched stance on the floor. The thin strip skids across AR’s chest as the tailor begins to take the measurements for the top half. He asks AR to lift his arms so he could measure under them, sliding the tape measure around the span of his chest. Charlie can hardly keep his eyes off of the tailor’s unhurried movements, while the tailor was taking AR’s measurements with such steady precision that to Charlie felt like torture.

The tailor slides the length of the measurer along the top of AR’s shoulder across his sturdy back, from each seam of the thin undershirt he was currently wearing. Charlie can see one of AR’s shoulder blades shifting as the tailor took account of the numbers.

Charlie is getting increasingly uncomfortable and keeps glancing toward the door every now and again to distract himself from inspecting the sordid scene that was occurring before his very eyes.

Again the strip caresses AR’s stout figure but this time from his collarbone to a little below his torso in order to gauge the length for his suit jacket. Charlie shifts his weight around in another feeble attempt at distraction, but that damn tape measurer snakes along AR’s exposed arm up to the top of his shoulder sleeve to the end of the seam.

Charlie’s ears zero in on the sound of the measurer’s agonizing movements, it was all he could hear. Well, _that_ and AR’s soft breathing. The pupils of Charlie’s eyes were shrinking to pinpoints as he takes in the fine hairs that had risen on AR’s arm. His eyes roll into the back of his head.

Charlie’s thoughts were taken back to that one night in AR’s office. Not much happened, actually. AR had placed his hands on Charlie’s shoulders a few times while describing to him how one does business when working for someone of his prestige and intelligence. He recalled his sharp glare and the steady stare as his fingers gripped Charlie’s shoulders tighter, a reminder that what he was saying was important and that he best open up his ears and listen carefully.

And Charlie wanted to, but AR’s proximity was close and almost disconcerting. The words were direct, formal even, and distant enough but his gaze was saying more. Charlie’s ego always made him come across as a dominating man, but under AR’s concentrated stare he was so small and felt like shrinking away into himself for fear of acting irrationally. 

Now, back in the present, Charlie is feeling that way again. But this time it was Charlie whose eyes were focused in on AR, and he was almost certain that AR knew. The man seems to have knowledge of things people would rather not be out in the open, and he knows how to play the cards to his advantage.

The tailor finishes taking AR’s measurements and leaves the room. Charlie sidesteps so the tailor could exit the tiny back room. AR straightens his tie and then glances up to assess Charlie. Their eyes meet and AR beckons Charlie over with a nod to which Charlie advances over with two long strides. AR was facing the three-fold mirror when he spoke.

“So you think the charcoal gray would suit me?” 

There is no waver in his voice, no real question, no need for reassurance. His tone is cool, poised, and maybe a little humorous; here is a man convinced of his charm and secure in the way he appeals to others. 

“I said it, didn’t I?” came Charlie’s quick, somewhat snotty reply.

The look AR sends Charlie, with his eyebrow raised real high, says it all - that condescending comments would not be taken lightly. 

“Charlie, what did I tell you about respect?” 

The words creep toward a menacing tenor.

“I know, I know” is Charlie’s reluctant response. He chances a look at AR, an apology in his eyes along with his admiration.

AR studies Charlie’s face some more, making sure he got the message. He reaches over and squeezes Charlie’s shoulder with a grip that reinforces his words and sends Charlie reeling. Charlie’s body slumps forward and a whimper weasels its way from his mouth. His cheeks bloom red. AR smirks.

“Flattery suits you, Charlie,” AR says with a small chuckle as he saunters out of the back room. 

Charlie’s hand reaches up and wipes at his face. Shame had finally washed over Charlie accompanied by slight disbelief, and then he shakes his head to clear his thoughts.

Why couldn’t he ever rein in his impulse to unabashedly delight in AR’s approval? 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> https://9luciddreams.livejournal.com/4299.html


End file.
